


the beginning (of anything you want).

by katarama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Aphobia, Aromantic, Aromantic Stiles Stilinski, Background Allison Argent/Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Background Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore - Freeform, Background Polyamory, Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Speed Dating, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: Stiles can’t imagine why Lydia is dragging him to soulmate speed dating when his wrist is still as bare as the day he was born, no sign of the usual uncolored, greyscale tattoo on the wrist, thesoulmate pendingindicator.Apparently, he’s aro-spec, and, apparently, that’s something that his body decided to broadcast to the world without consulting with him first.





	the beginning (of anything you want).

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenofCrazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofCrazy/gifts).



> My recipient asked for fluff + soulmate AUs + coffee shop AUs + meeting in college AUs + blind date AUs.  I hope you like it, and happy holidays!

“You know this is pointless.”

Stiles has said it about ten times by now.  He doesn’t expect that Lydia will listen to him, but he feels the need to re-register the complaint.  He at the very least needs to prepare her for his _I told you so_ that they both know is coming when this doesn’t go according to Lydia’s Mysterious Grand Plan™.

“You know it doesn’t matter as much as they say it does,” Lydia says, shaking her hair out and checking her phone.  She’s wearing her favorite lip gloss today, because the coffee shop she’s dragging Stiles to is run by  _Allison Argent_ , said in the same kind of too-crisp tone that Stiles recognizes from when Lydia first met Jackson.  “Just don’t embarrass me in front of everyone.  Play along a little bit.”

Stiles at least has to give her a little bit of credit for not being a hypocrite.  Despite the way Lydia’s wrist flooded with electric blue when she first met Jackson, Lydia actually doesn’t seem to give the soulmate marks as much credence as most.  She and Jackson have split twice now.  Lydia insists that they’re only together now because of some heavy duty therapy.  Stiles suspects the way that both of them seem intent on getting very, very close to one Miss Argent, the last in a line of matchmaker extraordinaires, probably isn’t hurting.

Lydia only has one soulmate mark, but Jackson has two.  Allison has one, and it’s already colored in.  

In spite of everything, though, Stiles thinks Lydia believes in the whole soulmate mark thing more than she lets on.  More than she wants to, even.  She wants to believe that everyone has at least one, which actually is a little bit ignorant, in his case, but.  He can’t imagine why else she’d be dragging him to soulmate speed dating when his wrist is still as bare as the day he was born, no sign of the usual uncolored, greyscale tattoo on the wrist, the  _soulmate pending_  indicator.  

Apparently, he’s aro-spec, and, apparently, that’s something that his body decided to broadcast to the world without consulting with him first.

“I’m still not sure they aren’t gonna kick me out,” Stiles points out.  “Getting an aro-spec dude showing up tattoo-less to an event specifically for stuffing as many ‘nice to meet you, does my wrist say I should give a shit about you’s as you can into an hour and a half seems like a waste of everyone’s time.”

“Allison isn’t her parents,” Lydia informs him, like it’s supposed to mean something to Stiles.  Like she has it on good authority that it means something.  “She’s open to more… flexible arrangements.”

Stiles is still 99% sure this is a waste of his time, and that all he’s going to get out of this is some high-quality free coffee.  But he’s also a broke college student who has never once turned down high-quality free coffee in his life.  So he lets Lydia drag him down the street to the cutesy little college town coffee shop with a board outside announcing “Speed Mating at 2 PM, everyone welcome!”

He thinks that he can manage this.  He can totally deal with awkward conversations.  A few awkward conversations with strangers won’t kill him.

He’s pretty sure it will be fine.  But if nothing else, there’s coffee.

And, against all odds, he might find someone.  It would be nice not to be alone.

* * *

Stiles was wrong.  Stiles was very wrong.  Stiles is pretty sure that being here for another whole hour will actually literally kill him.  It’s only been 32 minutes, and he’s had three separate people grill him about his lack of a mark.  One person literally spilled water on the table by his hand and tried to discreetly dab at his wrist with a tissue, like there might be makeup there to wipe off.  Which is, like, not only painfully unsubtle, but also would be a huge invasion of privacy, if Stiles actually had anything to hide.

Lydia has put her hand on Allison’s arm six times so far.  Stiles has been counting, because staring at Lydia is much, much easier than acting like this isn’t making him feel like some kind of romance-devoid zoo animal.

Stiles decides that if this doesn’t get better very, very soon, he’s just going to bolt.  Allison will announce the switch and Stiles will peace out, and Lydia can fill his spot.  There’s only so much of this he can take.  He can only stomach so many disappointed eyes that won’t meet his gaze, that make his stomach sink.  His skin feels itchy, and he’s never been more aware of his pale, blank wrist in his life.

“Switch!” Allison calls out, and Stiles braces himself for another round of discomfort and shame for something he can’t control.  Stiles stays seated, and a new dude settles in at the table across from him.

Stiles’ initial reaction, if he were in any other situation, would be incredibly positive.  The guy has warm brown eyes and a crooked jaw and a hopeful smile, like this isn’t draining the life out of him.  His hair is curled slightly at the ends, framing his face and making him look even softer.  He looks like some rom com leading man kind of bullshit, and Stiles is almost sad that he knows everything will be ruined as soon as the guy looks down at Stiles’ wrist.

“I’m Scott,” he says, and he sticks out his hand for a handshake.  Stiles introduces himself and takes Scott’s hand, because he appreciates that the guy is at least up front about it.  No hiding the ball, everyone’s cards on the table.

They both look down at each other’s wrists.  They both freeze.  They both look up at each other’s eyes.

“You know your soulmate already,” Stiles blurts.  “Thank fucking god.”

There’s a long, awkward silence before Scott starts laughing.  His wrist is a soft forest green, almost the same color as his henley.  Stiles can’t help but join the laughing, a kind of nervous giddiness, because Scott has a soulmate already.  Scott has a soulmate and Scott is here, and Scott isn’t looking at Stiles like he’s disappointed or disgusted or upset.

“That isn’t the response I’m used to getting here,” Scott says, his cheeks dimpling as he smiles.  “But we don’t get a lot of aro people here.”

“I wonder why you don’t see many of us,” Stiles says, only a little sarcastic, the edge softened by a pervasive sense of relief.  He doesn’t correct Scott to tell him that he’s aro-spec, not flat aro.  It’s close enough, and he’s never had romantic feelings before; it’s always been purely a theoretical thing, that he might.  “Lydia dragged me here, or I wouldn’t be.  What brings you here?”

“Allison,” Scott replies.  He looks over to where she’s chatting with Lydia, a fond smile on his face.  “My soulmate.  We aren’t dating anymore, but it’s still fun to come here.  Sometimes I have some really fun conversations.”

“You do?” Stiles asks, sufficiently skeptic, and Scott laughs again.  Stiles really likes the sound of it.  It makes him feel warm, like he accomplished something good.  

“I’m having one now,” Scott says, and Stiles’ stomach swoops.  “You just have to find the people who are here to actually meet people.  Some people have too many expectations.”

“I’m a low expectations kind of guy,” Stiles jokes.  “And to be totally honest, this wasn’t even really meeting even my low expectations.  I don’t think one single person I’ve spoken to has looked me in the eyes since I got here.”

“Well, I still have two minutes to turn your day around.”  Scott’s gaze is fixed on Stiles’, warm and steady.

“I think you already have,” Stiles admits.  

There isn’t a lot of time left to talk, so Stiles decides to go against his promise to Lydia and make a scene.  Allison calls a swap, and Stiles gets up out of his seat along with Scott.  The entire room is giving him quizzical looks, and the looks only get more baffled when Stiles calls out to Scott.

“I kinda want to blow this joint,” Stiles says.  “Go somewhere and have an actual conversation, you know?  Maybe actually go as far as paying for coffee.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a date, bro.”  Scott doesn’t seem to have a problem with that at all, based on the sheer volume of dimpling that’s going on.  

“Probably not?” Stiles replies.  “Can’t really know until later on, I think.  But I think it could go in the solid maybe department.”

The pairs have all switched out around them, less interested in Scott and Stiles when faced with the prospect of losing out on precious time for finding their soulmates.  Stiles is glad.  He’s nervous enough about this as it is, and he doesn’t need the entire room watching in case this goes really embarrassing really quickly.

He doesn’t have to wait long, because Scott doesn’t make him.  It’s probably the kindest thing that anyone’s done for Stiles all day.

“Maybe’s good enough for me.”  

Scott gives Allison a goodbye hug while Lydia gives Stiles a smug look.  Stiles isn’t going to give Lydia credit for this one, because Lydia technically hasn’t been right.  

Stiles doesn’t have a soulmate, and Scott already has his.  There’s no magical innate tattoo that tells either of them that this means anything.  As far as Stiles knows, it won’t.  He only really knows that Scott is hot and friendly and has far more patience for small talk in his pinky finger than Stiles has in his whole body.

It’s still enough to have Stiles’ stomach warm and jittery (in a way that’s not inspired by coffee, for once) as he and Scott head walk down the block in search of quality pastries. 

Scott pays for Stiles’ drink, and the feeling that this could be Something lingers for the rest of the afternoon.  Stiles thinks he likes the feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](http://sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com).


End file.
